


kiss and make up

by mm_nani



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Recreational Drug Use, but i think i was grieving, coping with loss, kind of strange, makes me sad, seeing our boys fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 10:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13234257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm_nani/pseuds/mm_nani
Summary: Kevin and Leroy make up after their little fight on the pitchor‘the perfect angel Kevin de Bruyne, fails to understand stress relief. Breaking news.’





	kiss and make up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myblueworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/gifts).



> Happy Holidays Utami and Happy New Year, I hope our boys are always friends and they love each other. I got very inspired for this pairing and this idea after our disappointing match so I wrote this and for some reason I thought you would like it.
> 
> Love you lots!!

It’s late by the time Kevin is released to go home. The team doctor said that he’s extremely lucky and the physiotherapists had gone through an extensive session with him after regardless. He walks slowly towards parking, his knees twinge very slightly inside the braces. His muscles sore, his spirits in even worse condition. 

 

There’s only a smattering of cars when he gets there, carrying his crutches since his shoulders are too sore to use them. Most people have gone home, disappointment from their last game of the year still lingering, stale air circulating in his lungs. 

 

He notices a familiar hooded figure leaning against one of the pillars, a joint clutched between two long dark fingers, lazily releasing smoke into the air, tendrils travelling up and dissipating in a cloud near familiar curly brown hair.

 

He can’t see the face but Kevin can recognize Leroy from a mile away just from the way he moves and holds himself, there’s something distinctive about his nonchalance, the way his limbs arrange together, all casual grace with the slightest hint tension that only someone looking for it would see.

 

‘Right in the parking lot? Do you want to get in trouble?’ Kevin says as he approaches and Leroy jerks for one moment but relaxes again when he notices it’s just Kevin, the roll of his eyes grate on Kevin’s inside.

 

Leroy sighs on the tail end of his looking away from Kevin, pulls the joint to his lips again to punctuate just how little he cares for Kevin’s opinion, ‘Gaffer’s gone.’

 

‘It’s not good for you.’ He says and he half wishes that he didn’t have to cross paths with Leroy to get to his car. He thinks he probably would not have disturbed Leroy then.

 

Leroy snorts, takes another deep puff.

 

Why does Leroy not understand that Kevin is just worried for him?

 

‘Another lecture? It’s less charming off the pitch.’ Leroy’s voice is thick and raspy with smoke.

 

Kevin feels bad for that, his stomach churns with the shame, of Pep looking at him like he’s keeping in a lecture about teamwork out of deference to Kevin’s injury. He tries to take a deep breath to rid himself of the guilt but only takes in a lungful of smoke. It grates at him again.

 

‘I’m sorry.’ He manages to churn out. Is he sorry, though? He shouldn’t have shouted at Leroy on national television but he doesn’t regret it, not when Leroy keeps doing irresponsible things - like smoking, like horsing around with Raheem in practice. 

 

Like not being in the position that Kevin told him to be.

 

Leroy smiles, like he’s calling out Kevin’s bluff, and it’s back, little tendrils of shame at being caught in his sincerity. A little cloud of smoke creep out from the stretch of Leroy’s lips, teeth white, skin smooth, the smile is almost ugly ‘the perfect angel Kevin de Bruyne, fails to understand stress relief. Breaking news.’ 

 

Sarcasm drips thick like molasses from his lips and it trickles, slow and stinging, down Kevin’s throat when he swallows around his own spit. He thinks of Leroy’s easy smile- the beautiful earnest one- the laugh lines around his eyes, the way people need to merely stand next to Leroy to understand what joy feels like. His insides burn like the edges of Leroy’s smoking joint as he thinks about his own plain, pale face. How sometimes when he smiles people ask him if something is wrong.

 

Kevin’s stomach churns with a completely different kind of shame, his throat seems to close around itself, ‘I’m not perfect.’ He manages to say. Kevin feels like a petulant child, hates how Leroy’s eyes are hooded and unaffected, making Kevin feel so much younger even though it is Leroy who’s really, still only a kid. Evident in how easy it is for him to lose his temper, his control on the pitch.

 

Leroy snorts again, the joint small enough now that he has to grip it with between thumb and index finger, ‘easy to say for someone who can only be stopped with a boot to his knee.’ Leroy sounds spiteful, jealous and Kevin starts to understand why Kevin is unbearable to him. Leroy looks like an emotion Kevin has felt many times before, the ugly mix of awe and envy where he’s thought he could give anything to play beautiful football.

 

A small part of him feels satisfied for being on the end of Leroy’s jealous wonderment. 

 

‘You really don’t know? About me, before I came to bundesliga.’ He answers. It’s strange to think that Leroy doesn’t know the brand of ‘Chelsea reject’ imprinted on his back in more permanent ink than that of his name on a City jersey. 

 

It’s strange because Kevin can’t forget.

 

It’s his turn to be awed and for a second he wishes he could see himself the way Leroy sees him.

 

‘No.’ Leroy answers but he sounds apologetic already, like he’s already clued into how Kevin’s life was always not rosy and perfect.

 

It’s Kevin’s turn to snort. He picks out the little joint from between Leroy’s fingers, marvels at the contrast of their fingers against each other in that brief moment before he’s taking the last hit. Kevin catches the wide-eyed shock in Leroy’s eyes as he does so, it makes the burn and the unbearable heat in his lungs worth it.

 

‘This is not stress relief.’ He says and he tries to sound wise and cool but really he’s drowning in smoke and his chest is heaving from the effort to not cough, ‘it’s an excuse.’ 

 

Leroy still looks shocked, though now he looks a little impressed, maybe a little amused and that ugly, scathing smile is replaced with something softer, less forced teeth showing. He’s crowded in close to Leroy, once the haze of the smoke and the shock of the joint dies down Kevin realizes exactly how close.

 

Leroy has long swooping lashes.

 

He feels a tickle under his chin, two pads of fingers holding him in place before Leroy has kissed him. He can only stare at the arch of Leroy nose, the shock of his lips hold him in place. Leroy pulls back with a mischievous grin. When Leroy moves Kevin takes a step back but Leroy is only stepping on the smoke butt that Kevin hadn’t realized he’d dropped on the concrete during the kiss.

 

‘There are other ways to stress relief, yeah?’

 

Kevin licks along the ghost touch of Leroy against him.

 

And nods.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think my dudes! I'm kind of always nervous when I write new pairs!
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](https://manaholic-mongolian.tumblr.com/)


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